a bit about babies

dear friends and lovers.

saturday. a day of chores. for people who get high off of feeling accomplished, it is a good day, and for the rest of us... well, clean floors are nice. i've been sitting around this afternoon playing a little guitar. it tends to put me in a reflective mode... i play a song and i'm transported back to the time period when i wrote it... what i was thinking, where i was, how i was feeling (and whether or not i was even aware of those feelings at the time). music has a mysterious power like that. when i was graduating high school, i was obsessed with the band Third Eye Blind (not a secret) and in love with my friend erin (sort of a secret) and i remember asking her one day if she thought that lead singers in bands that do national tours are still transported back to where their consciousness was when they wrote a song, even if they are playing it for the 300th time. she wasn't sure. for a while i haven't been sure either, because the few times that i have gotten up and played in front of people, sometimes i am transported and sometimes i'm so damn nervous that i'll mess up the song its like i'm feeling my way through the song, remembering what i wrote mere seconds before i have to say it. i still don't have an answer to my question, except that for me, on lazy saturdays, i am still taken back to different times and places.

wednesday i was feeling a little sad. the day started out great with our 3 year old neighbor calling me out by name, "Jaime!" but later, when we are driving on my way to my teaching class, we pass by a building with the words "Agro-Tech" written on the front. Those two words sent my mind spiraling out of control. i started thinking about monsanto and how they create seeds for plants that don't produce usable seeds, and in this way farmers have to buy new crops of seeds every year and it keeps rural farmers in a vicious cycle. and then i started thinking about how we use and misuse so many plants anyway and how destructive we are to the soil and the earth in general... and it was all getting out of control on how hopeless it can seem to reverse some of the patterns of domination and then i saw a pregnant woman crossing the street. full of life, probably hope. and a little later that day, as we were leaving our class to go eat in the hotel of our teacher who wanted to have a little cake and ice cream to celebrate us finishing the class and also likes to eat very classy meals, we drive by this area where people stand in the streets selling things--from cell phone covers to peanuts to papayas. and this little girl walked right up to our window, she couldn't have been more than 5 years old, holding this papaya half the size of her body the way you would see a little girl holding her favorite doll... barefoot, rags for clothes, ratty hair... and she's trying to sell this large piece of fruit to us. and i just looked her right in the eyes. it was like looking into the most apparently innocent mirror that just happened to be reflecting the horrors of the west; or of capitalism; or of the darkest corners of my soul. either way i saw my own poverty clearly. the light turned green. we drove on.

josh and i did some exploring and climbed up to look at our roof. we have this cool little air vent thing in the middle of the house. wooden beams crisscross the area and we discussed carving all the names of JV's that had lived in the house from 04' to now. we'll see if that ever comes to fruition. we looked through some of the folders that are around but have never been shown to us and discovered suggestions for spirituality nights, old community member's folders, and the illusive map of the managua busses. it is one of the most amazing things, if you have ever used a bus in managua, its kinda like a floo powder (harry potter) in that if you don't take much caution, you won't end up where you're going, or at least not in one piece... but with a map, the possibilities are endless.

another thing i found was a modern day parable. i'll have to paraphrase it here for you... a young man was once standing by the edge of a river, when to his horror a baby came floating down the river. he of course jumped in and saved the baby and quickly alerted members of the town. soon after two babies came floating down the river, crying, and he jumped in and saved them too. other members of the town began to get worried, and formed a small committee. 4 babies, 10 babies... floating down the river... soon people were diving in and out on a very consistent basis. they were organized and they were saving almost all of the babies. but then there was 30 40 50 and they were still saving most of the babies, but often there was too many. some would float by to their obvious peril. a woman, one of the town members, shouted for the attention of the others and said, 'What if we form a committee to go upstream and see who is dumping all of these babies in the river?' 'no, we'll lose too many babies, we can't afford to lose any committed people' so they went on as they had, saving many, but losing some... who then had greater concern for the babies? those looking to prevent them from being thrown in or those looking to keep diving in and pulling some out?

take it for what you will, but sometimes i feel like so many of us struggle to pull out babies and never look deep to see if we are really a participant in throwing them in. maybe this is all getting confusing, and it is definately getting way too long. but before i wrap it up, i've got two short things to share. the other day as i rounded a corner on my way home a woman about 20 yards from me began yelling at me as if she recognized me and was Pissed at me. she started crossing the street (very slowly) so i walked a little faster. mental illnesses pretty much get left to their own here... although maybe she was a shaman and saw an evil spirit within me. yesterday (friday) on the way home from visiting the school where i'll be teaching, a little girl, about 4, was sitting on her mother's lap, and the little girl smiled at me, so i smiled back, and then she got my attention about 5 minutes later. there was a note sitting on the bus seat next to me that read "hi, do you want to be my friend? call me at (phone #) nadir martinez" ... it was tempting since i don't have a lot of 4 year old friends, but i wrote her a note back that said "hola nadir, sorry but i don't have a telephone, but i imagine that you would be a very good friend, my name is jaime, nice to meet you."

i feel like this entry is incomplete, because its all about experiences and not relationships (which i feel are much more important) but oh well. i'll write about those some other day. i love you all. spend a moment in solitude today.

james